


Possessed

by HelenSBlake, jefferfieldheaven



Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Bondage, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Jefferfield, Kidnapping, Kissing, Lima Syndrome, Maxine "Max" Caulfield Still Has Powers, Stockholm Syndrome, complicated feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 09:43:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15992624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HelenSBlake/pseuds/HelenSBlake, https://archiveofourown.org/users/jefferfieldheaven/pseuds/jefferfieldheaven
Summary: Max finds herself trapped in the Dark Room, but her captor ends up surprising her in a way she never expected.





	Possessed

The girl stopped breathing, but only for a few seconds. Her face relaxed and he could appreciate that innocence and purity he was looking for.

_Good. You’re a natural, Max. Let’s take you to the Dark Room to capture you the way you truly deserve._

He picked her up and walked slowly towards his car, which was parked outside the junkyard. Carefully, he placed her inside the vehicle, trying not to hurt her. He then looked back and saw Chloe’s body surrounded by blood.

_I’m sorry, but I’ll deal with you later. Nobody’s going to come here. Not with this storm._

He opened the door and started the engine. He couldn’t hide his smile, thinking of everything he was going to do with her. They arrived at the barn a few minutes later. The weather had somehow become even worse and made it difficult to walk with her in his arms. He took her inside the bunker, carefully carrying her bridal style. Once he managed to open both doors, he finally laid her on the sofa.  
_Okay… Let’s get you something to sit on._

He took an armchair from near the entrance and placed it in the middle of the white studio. Taking a glimpse of the girl, he opened one of the lockers and grabbed a roll of duct tape. Before lifting her up again, he stared for a few seconds. Her face was pale, a bit more than usual, making her freckles stand out even more.

_Now this…is art. Look at that perfect face._

He touched her cheek, his hand slightly shaking due to his excitement. Her skin was as soft as velvet but as cold as ice. He tenderly caressed her fragile face and then gently entangled his fingers in her hair. Leaning in closer, he smelled her perfume.

_If only you could see me the way I see you._

He quickly tied her up to the chair, fearing she would wake up. Max was completely still. The man moved her head, letting it fall back. Her face lit up with the spotlights and he could study every inch of it. He wanted to touch her lips, to know how they would feel on his. She was even prettier unconscious. Though nothing “bad” would happen if he tried to kiss her, he pushed that thought away. That wasn’t something he’d do.

“We’ll have a lot more fun when you wake up,” he whispered next to her ear. If she’d been awake, she’d have felt his soft lips brush against her earlobe only so slightly.

 

* * *

 

 

In the fuzziness of her mind, she registered a harsh, white lighting shining directly into her sore eyes, forcing her to squint and close them back. Her neck ached as it seemed she’d been sleeping in the same sitting position for far too long, her head hanging loose with no means of supporting it. She whined, trying to stretch it back to its usual state.

_Ouch…_

She needed a good few minutes to finally realize where she was. Sitting on a comfortable, black leather armchair, alone in...the Dark Room.

_Oh shit! How the hell am I back here?!_

She couldn’t remember how she got there. The last vivid memory was of the Vortex party, hurriedly leaving for the junkyard with Chloe…

_Chloe... Jefferson...shot her!_

Max couldn’t understand why, though. Was _Mr. Jefferson_ behind it all and _not_ Nathan? But...nothing pointed to him having anything to do with this, and with the help of Max’s powers, she should have been able to piece the mystery together. Apparently, she wasn’t good enough.

She shook her head. _How...how could he do this?_

But Max was also angry at Chloe for dragging her along on this dangerous adventure. They shouldn’t have been out there. They should have reported Rachel’s body to the police the minute they’d found it. Clearly, they had taken Max’s powers for granted. Not only were they finite - they relied on Max being fully conscious. And yet, Jefferson, completely unaware of her gift, had unwittingly gained an incredible advantage over them, and could now dispose of them both.

 _We were so stupid. So fucking naive_.

Max also knew she shouldn’t have let Chloe take the wheel. Of course her friend was furious and heartbroken. She _loved_ Rachel, who turned out to have been dead all along, and was now never coming back. Max couldn’t fix that for Chloe even with her unexplained powers. But could Chloe actually _murder_ Nathan? Just like that? Max had witnessed her kill Frank. Even Frank’s innocent dog, Pompidou, had been unable to escape Chloe’s rage. Max had rewound, again and again, whenever needed, but...Chloe’d still done it. No one pushed her, she acted on her on pure, free will. It wasn’t completely out of the question that she would have done it again.

 _She almost got **me** killed_ …

“Hello?! Is anybody out there?” Max called out in panic. The room appeared empty, but clearly prepared to host a guest. She could feel warm air blowing somewhere behind her; a quiet, light jazz music was coming out of the sound system. It seemed Mr. Jefferson wanted to make sure she was comfortable, so much so that Max hadn’t even noticed her tied-up legs and arms until just now. She tried to wring her limbs free, but the duct tape was holding her bound firmly to the armchair.

She then heard a thud, something metal screeching unpleasantly against the tiled floor and a flit of plastic curtain separating the spacious studio from some other room. And...there he was. Mr. Jefferson came back, soaked in water, though enrobed in a raincoat. She looked at him with dread in her eyes.

His shoes were slightly dirty from the rain, leaving mud with each step. His head was hidden behind the hood, so his hair wasn't much tousled. He opened the heavy door with a loud screech. Ironically, he had buried Chloe next to the spot where Rachel was. He didn't quite believe in heaven, but they were at least together now. He chuckled at his own joke. He took the hood off and pushed the curtain aside. Maxine was awake.

_She's scared… They all have the same doe-eyed look when they wake up here._

Max murmured something he couldn't hear. He left the raincoat on the sofa and took off his shoes. The girl stared in awe while he did all that. He seemed really comfortable in that place. Why was he there? What was he going to do? She didn't know and, honestly, she didn't want to know. He walked towards her and Max struggled to get free.

“Shh, shh...relax now. What did you say, Max?” he crossed his arms and waited for an answer.

“Please, don’t kill me,” she murmured again, her voice louder yet still breaking, frantically shaking her head, tears welling up in the corners of her eyes.

“You know…that's gonna be impossible. You and your punk friend already know too much. I can't just _let you go_ , Max.” He smiled getting a bit closer to her face. He felt the urge to kiss her and touch her, but first he needed to investigate a bit further. “How did you manage to get into my Dark Room? Why do you care _so much_ about Rachel?”

“ _Don’t kill me_ ,” she pleaded again in a near-whisper, pressing her back against the armchair, instinctively trying to distance herself from him. “I’ll tell you everything, just... _please_.”

“Don't beg, _never_ beg. I don't like that.” His voice sounded harsh and deep, but he tried to remain calm. “Anyway, be a good girl and I might let you live. I just need to frame you… Your purity inspires me so much. I chose _you_ , Maxine. I don't care if Victoria won the contest. You're the winner. I want you to be my muse, my... _subject_.” He caressed her cheek, making her shiver. “It's okay,” he soothed. “I won't hurt you. Just behave and I won't get mad at you.”

Though tears were now pouring down her gentle cheeks, Max hurriedly nodded her head, trying to calm down her ramming heart and ragged breath. Mr. Jefferson’s palm was soft and warm against her cheek, collecting her tiny tears with his index finger, but his eyes had a hint of coldness behind them, his gaze scrutinizing and unrelenting.

 _Play this smart, Max, and just he might let you go_.

Her voice shaky, she began her explanation, “I don’t— _didn’t_ even know Rachel. Ch-Chloe wanted to find out what happened to her. S-step by step, w-we found this place. Mr. Jefferson…” She sounded _terrified_. “...why are you _doing_ this?”

Mark smirked at her. “Oh, Max…I’m so glad you asked that question.” One leg bent, he kneeled in front of her, and she now towered over him, observing him through teary eyes. “Simply put, I'm obsessed with the idea of capturing that moment innocence evolves into corruption. That shift from black, to white, to grey and beyond… Most models are cynical, they lose that naiveté.” He was gesturing as he spoke, playing the familiar Arts professor. “However, some Blackwell students carry their hope and…optimism with them like an…aura. And those lucky few become my models, my…subjects.”

He then got up to simply turn his back on Max. He seemed so...passionate about all this to her. She could see the same spark that he always had during his lectures, but there was so much more....euphoria in his eyes, as though he was truly in his element now.

“Is...is that what’s going to happen to me?” she asked. Why would Mr. Jefferson want to take pictures of _her?_ There was nothing particularly special about her to make such a renowned artist — or anyone, really — want to immortalize her indistinctive face. Plain Jane Doe, nothing more. Mr. Jefferson turned around to face her again, a smirk flickering across his mature features. Max couldn’t deny him his looks. He was a mesmerizing and a devilishly handsome man.

Maxine, unlike his other models, seemed to pick much faster on his cues. But it was more evident than anything that she felt utterly insecure. It was likely she didn’t believe she was worth his lens. And she couldn’t have been more wrong if she tried. Though, he appeared to be _particularly_ interested in her, so she couldn’t understand why he’d think her to be _that_ special.

Mark’s face lit up and a wide smile curved his lips. He tilted his head and raised both brows looking deeply into her wet eyes. “Max, you don't see it. _You_ are purity personified. Even when you're not asleep, you are innocent; naive, but...also a fighter. Especially since you've developed from nerd to hero within a week. I'm going to make you live forever in my pictures.”

He had to get rid of all witnesses. He knew that. Something inside his mind screamed he shouldn't do that to her. Almost as if she were somehow _special_. Was she really? He didn't want to…he _couldn't_ kill her. His face turned serious and he looked away for a few seconds. “Well, Max, I need to take some shots before your face changes expression. I need to capture that innocence. Don't worry, our session is just getting started.”

He took his camera out of the bag and attached it to the tripod. The only thing that could be heard the next few minutes was the shutter going off, second by second, and Jefferson’s comments every now and then.

“Oh...good. Oh, those eyes…”

He placed Max’s head carefully, so she was looking directly into the lens.

“So wise...yet, so _innocent_.”

The girl momentarily froze, not knowing what to do. She didn't move an inch to avoid upsetting him. She was still afraid of what he might do. But he was being so...gentle with her. His gloved hand was only ever touching her if needed, always tender and patient. His voice was soothing like silk; even as frightened as she was, Max couldn’t deny it felt almost calming, consoling. He took photograph after photograph, never once dissatisfied. She must have been doing a good job. Mr. Jefferson was focused on the task at hand, marveling at his subject, though the words he spoke didn’t seem to be meant for her. They rather reminded her of a conversation he was having with himself. And yet they made her feel special like never before. Not one person had ever been _this_ fascinated with her. It didn’t even cross Max’s mind to rewind now. There was something far too magnetizing about their connection that was now being developed.

He continued for a couple more minutes until he was satisfied with the amount of photos. He held the camera and took a quick glance at them. He grinned and turned his head towards her. She seemed far more relaxed now, but was still shaking lightly. Her eyes were fixed on him, mesmerised by his every movement.

“Thanks, Max. I think our session...was a career high for me. How I wish I could share this with the world. You’re too perfect…” He left the camera on the tripod again and took the small SD card to see the pictures on his computer. “Okay. Now, let’s see how these shots came out. I can see why an instant camera is so appealing. You don’t need a computer to print your work out.”

He went over to the stereo and changed the song. _Your Memory Moved in to Stay_ stopped and _Alone with a Heart_ started playing. He looked up and closed his eyes, enjoying the soft music. He sat at his desk and began examining the photos.

“Max…I wish you could see yourself now…” His voice was deep and shaky, almost as though he was climaxing. He would gaze back at Max every now and then, smirking and biting his bottom lip softly. The more he looked at the images, the more heat he felt building up. “God…I wish you’d been around back in my day… Your eyes are so wide so… _lost_ … Beautiful.”

He was surely enjoying himself, though he also wanted to _touch_ her, not only admire her beauty. He didn’t have the courage to do a such thing, he knew far better than that. The very idea of raping someone made him sick and he would recall his traumatic childhood each time he thought about that concept. If only Max would allow him to kiss her soft neck, feel her gentle thighs… Jefferson felt warmth spread through his chest and far too much excitement between his legs. He sighed, trying to calm down. But it was useless as every time he looked at her, he would start trembling again. The man shook his head and tried to focus on the photographs. He didn’t have a choice. He _had_ to do it. It hurt and he didn’t understand why. Was she _that_ special? ~~~~

_I can’t let her go… She knows too much and I’m sure she’d turn me to the police in a heartbeat. I have to do it. I have to...kill her. It doesn’t matter how much I love her, she’s never going to reciprocate my feelings. But, **is** this...love?_

Sympathetic thoughts dispersed, he lifted up from his seat and went over to the small trolley near where Max was sitting. Without a word, he took one of the needles and filled it all with his preferred drug. A lethal dosage, no doubt. He placed it back on the trolley and met Max’s frightened eyes.

“I am truly sorry, Max… I _have to_ do this. Do you want to ask for any...last favors? I’d do anything.” His face was truthfully downbeat and he looked broken.

She rewound, time and time again, and it always ended the same way — with Mr. Jefferson drawing poison up the syringe and asking for one final demand. It was then where she stopped and spun the Earth back, giving herself another moment to ponder her escape.

Mr. Jefferson towered over her, though with much less ominosity in his gaze than at the beginning of their session. Yet still, he intended to kill her. His mind seemed dead set on that.

“Don’t kill me,” she pleaded once more, openly whimpering. “Don’t kill me — _that_ is my last request.”

But he simply shook his head at her, same sad expression straining his features. “Anything _but_ that,” he clarified, “Otherwise, it wouldn’t be called ‘last wish’, would it?”

Max threw her back against the chair in resignation. **_Liar_** _. What the hell do I say to him to make him spare my life?_ Suddenly, she felt something different drip down her nose. _Shit! I’ve rewound way too many times_.

Mark’s eyes widened with concern as torrents of blood emerged from her nostrils, pouring as though she was going to bleed out entirely. There was a strange sensation in his heart now — he had decided her life needed to end, and yet right now he feared he was going to lose her.

_No, no...too soon! Please, hold on just a little longer, Maxine._

“Hey,” he spoke softly, gently gripping her face with both of his gloved palms, examining her injury. “Your nose is bleeding,” he remarked, rubbing his thumbs under her nose, wiping off the haemorrhage. “Probably gave you too big a dose. Do forgive me, Max.” Again, softly, his fingers caressed her by the cheekbone, unintentionally leaving tiny smudges of her own blood.

Her head hurt so much she couldn’t think straight. She could no longer rely on her powers, so she had to talk her way out of this. But...what was she going to say? She’d tried hundreds of routes, always reaching the same outcome.

_Max! Think, girl!_

She eventually decided that if anything, perhaps the truth would bring her her freedom back. “I didn’t even want to be there with Chloe _to begin with!_ ” Max burst out. “She dragged me with her again and again, and I — I let her _use me!_ ” She was unable to wipe away the water pouring down her contorted face. Sniffling loudly, she continued, “Do I deserve to die because of her, Mr. Jefferson? Do I really matter _this little_ to you?” Max hanged her head, looking down, trembling with sobs.

That statement caught him completely off guard. He was finally accepting the fact that she was going to die when she blurted _that_ out. Mark stuttered and took a step back. He felt hurt, disappointed in himself. He wanted to brush her tears off, but his hands hesitated. He _hated_ seeing her like that. Why her? He had made Rachel cry before. Even Kate. Their teary eyes didn’t have such power. But with Maxine...he had never felt like this — so broken and miserable.

_Did she really just call me “Mr. Jefferson”…? After everything that’s happened? Sh-she acknowledged my admiration for her… She knows I care. I can’t do this to her. Why do I have so many second thoughts?_

“I… I’m truly sorry Max. If I let you leave, you’ll tell Madsen what I did. I don’t want to go to jail. Please, just...tell me what’s your last wish and get this over with.” His right hand approached her cheek slowly, so as not to startle the girl. His thumb got soaked with her tears and he shushed her. “Shh, shh… Please, don’t cry Max. I promise this final dose won’t hurt.”

Maxine looked at him with a pained expression, utter hopelessness behind her beautiful blue eyes. She wished he believed her sincerity, alas...he assumed she was trying to deceive him.

_Don’t be stupid, Mark. You can’t fall for that. She’s saying that to confuse you. She doesn’t love you — how could she?_

Mark didn’t exactly hate himself for conducting his photoshoots this way, he was rather proud of his vision, though no one else seemed to _get it_. But he wasn’t naive either. By the society’s standards, he was doing something...odd, unconventional, perhaps even inappropriate. And, considering he had brought Maxine here by force, how could she ever fall in love with him?

Max sniffed and exhaled. It seemed nothing could change his mind. She was too tired to use her power again and again. Her head was pounding, sinuses aching as they squeezed out more blood clots. She thus thought of another way to make him spare her life. If that was to fail her, then she’d let death follow.

“Can you… Can you at least...kiss me goodbye?” Max breathed, starting to lose consciousness bit by bit. “I want my last memory to be of you.”

That was far too perfect to be true.

“ _Kiss you?_ ” he echoed. He frowned his brows, looking uncharacteristically confused. That was about the last request he’d ever suspect she’d have.

 _She wants **me** …_ Those words seemed unknown for him, as he couldn’t believe what she had just said. _...to **kiss** her…_

“Kiss me. You promised me you’d do anything _but_ spare my life, correct?” Max arched her eyebrow at him, her tone…persuasive and yet seemingly truthful. How on Earth was _she_ manipulating _him_ now? _Was_ even she doing that?

“Well, uh...yes, but, uh…” Mark stammered.

“Fine. You want to kill me, have at it,” she snarled, her rage building up.

“No, I…I did promise I’d do anything. A-and I will. But first, let me…” He took one of the tissues from the trolley and looked at her, his breathing becoming more heavy. He held her head with one hand while cleaning off the blood with the other. It seemed almost as if he _cared_ about her. How could he? He was about to murder his best subject. He gave her a sad smile and put the tissue covered with the red substance away. “Better?” he soothed.

“Better,” Max responded, looking at him attentively, curious whether he was going to keep his promise. She was getting weaker, though, squinting her eyes as her vision became blurry, struggling to keep her head straight.

Jefferson just stared at her for a few seconds. He felt like a teenager about to give his very first kiss, but naturally, he was no novice. Everything seemed so surreal now. He didn’t know how to do it without making it unpleasant, though the situation was already awkward enough.

_I’d like her to have her hands free, but… No, she would try to flee. But I would love to feel her touch. Shit, no. Focus, Mark, remember what you have to do._

He had been extra confident until then — why would _this_ make him crumble? The man put a hand on her head, tilting it slightly. He got closer and closer, so slowly that she was getting impatient. Kindly stroking her hair, he pressed his lips against hers. She didn’t struggle, she didn’t even frown. Her eyes closed and his did too. Holding her face with both hands, he started kissing her more passionately, moving his lips slowly together with hers. It felt so good that he didn’t want to let her go, not until he absolutely had to catch his breath, feeling lightheaded.

_Why? Why does she feel so good? Why can’t I just—_

Their faces were inches apart, their foreheads pressed together. Her cheeks were red and warm, burning so hot against his gloves that it almost felt like touching her actual skin, and his hands didn’t seem to want to get off of them.

“Max… I—” he was about to confess something he didn’t want to. His mind screamed ‘No!’ but he didn’t have a choice.

_How can I kill her now? This is not what I planned… She’s too… **perfect**. And she’s all mine. I-I just **can’t**._

He left but a smooch on her tender lips, unable to deny himself the pleasure. Specially now that he struggled with forming his words properly.

“Sorry… I thought this would be easier,” he said apologetically. “I never had a problem doing…what I do. Something tells me I shouldn’t kill you. I can’t. I _won’t_. I love you too much... _Maxine_.” He pronounced her name so softly, with such a finesse to it, Max honestly didn’t mind at all. His hands left her face, much to her disappointment, and his eyes averted hers, too afraid to see her reaction.

Max didn’t think it was possible to feel more dizzy, with her already aching head and dazed mind, yet Mr. Jefferson’s kiss rendered her nearly senseless. She imagined his facial hair would feel scratchy and unpleasant against her lips, but she couldn’t have been more wrong if she tried. He was being so gentle with her, his beard tickled her face, and she wished she could hold onto his cheeks, but naturally, she couldn’t move at all. Wringing her wrists free seemed too difficult a task. Her heart fluttered as his kiss intensified only so slightly, breath catching up in his throat, his lips ardent and a bit impatient. He was as focused on this endeavor entirely, just as he had been during the photoshoot earlier.

But then he did something she expected the least. A confession of love coupled with him saying her full name in such a soothing, deep timbre… Was this _actually_ happening? She _wasn’t_ dreaming?

“Mr. Jefferson,” she breathed, trying to get him to meet her eyes. “Please, look at me.”

“I know, Max. I can’t expect you to forgive me just like that, but...right now I want to…” He was clearly quite flustered by the altercation. He didn’t expect to feel this way about her. The very image of her made him feel indescribably euphoric, but actually tasting her lips...unfathomable. “Er… I would like to kiss you once again. Only if you’re okay with it, that is.”

He had a puppy-eyed look that begged Max for more. He glanced at her hands and legs, then back at her. “I _could_ let you go, but…you have to promise: _no running away_ ,” he emphasized. “Even if you attempt to, there’s nowhere to go. The storm is too dangerous, so please don’t wander off.” He headed to the entrance to find something sharp to cut through the duct tape. “I would be far too worried about your wellbeing, Max.”

She only stared at him with those wide, puffy eyes, pupils dilated. He thought it resembled the shutter going off, taking mental pictures of him.

_Oh, you’re so stupid. Of course she’s going to run. Do you **really** think she’ll stay here?_

He joined her again, striding slowly and looking at her with want. He had a small pocket knife in hand. ~~~~

“Your choice, Max.” Kneeling, he brought the knife to her right leg. “I promise I won’t do _anything_ bad to you. I just want to...enjoy your company. Just for this one night.”

Maxine swallowed hard, not quite sure what he meant. The thin blade cut through the pieces of tapes, limb by limb, until she was free. Mark simply stood up and took a step back, watching her like a prey, wondering if she was going to betray his trust now. But she remained seated, only massaging her sore wrists and stretching out her muscles.

“Can I get up now?” Max finally spoke, her question full of uncertainty. It was best not to try anything he wouldn’t approve of. He had promised not to kill her, so at the very least she could keep her end of the bargain. That much seemed fair.

His eyes were still rather suspicious. “Aren’t you going to try and run away?”

“No,” she replied truthfully. “There’s that huge storm. And this is not such a bad place. At least it’s warmer than the outside.”

Mark narrowed his eyes. To him, it appeared she was still acting lucrative, and he couldn’t quite trust her yet. But he decided to at least give her a shot. “Alright then.”

Max slowly rose to her feet, wincing as her back muscles ached. She felt pins and needles in her stiff legs, she had been sitting in that position for quite a while after all. “Ouch,” she said quietly.

“What seems to be the issue?” Mark asked, concerned. Before Max could reply, her legs gave up and he needed to catch her before she fell. “Oh, hey…careful there.”

“Sorry,” she murmured, instinctively clutching onto his arms, grabbing his shirt. “My legs died.”

“Oh...right. Forgive me for that, Max.”

“It’s okay.”

He picked her up and went over to the sofa, placing her gently onto the soft cushions. His arms were so firm and strong, she couldn’t deny the thrill of being carried by him, feeling his defined abs through his shirt. “Better?” he asked, brushing her bangs to the side. Seeing his own hand close to her face, he realized he was still wearing the gloves. Perhaps taking a risk, he took them off and placed them in the glass coffee table in front of the sofa.

Max smiled at him. “Mhm, yes. Thank you.” She readjusted her position a little bit, once again wincing as she felt more cramps in her calves.

Mark nodded. “Okay. Well, the night is due soon, and I bet you’re getting tired, aren’t you, Max?” he asked, his voice soothing. As though right on cue, she yawned adorably. Mark chuckled. “It appears I’m right.”

He took a wide look around the room and pondered. There was not much furniture allowing them both to lie down and sleep. But then he remembered there were a bunch of soft pillows and a large blanket stashed in one of the sliding cabinets, just in case he ever had to spend the night at the bunker. He went over to the one at the back, and brought back four soft, big pillows, enough to fit the two of them. He put them on the sofa along with the blanket, and moved away the armchair to the side. He then placed the pillows on the white studio surface.

Looking back to Max, who was massaging her sore upper back, he asked, “Is that alright?”

Max glanced at the bedding. “Y-yes… So where do you sleep?”

“Next to you, if you allow me,” he explained with an amused smile. She was being so innocent and precious.

She gaped, her chin dropping low. Sleeping next to Mark Jefferson? Is this some odd, alternate timeline she suddenly jumped into?

“Maybe not,” he murmured.

“No, wait— It...it’s okay. I won’t mind,” she said, swallowing hard as his pupils dilated in excitement. “You have to sleep _somewhere_ , right? The sofa is nice, I bet, but not big enough for a tall man like you.” Her cheeks burned red.

Mark approached her and crouched down. He placed one hand on her thigh, the other gently caressed her cheek. “Well, I’d still take it if you wanted me to. Are you sure then?”

She shivered under his touch. “Yes.”

Thus, they both got up. Max toed off her sneakers, Mark too removed his shoes. He turned off the computer and the stereo, saving up electricity that was bound to run out with that storm going on outside. He left only one tiny light up and grabbed the blanket, and they headed to the heap of pillows on the floor. He eased her onto her side of the improvised bed, then lay beside her, throwing the blanket onto both of them. The Dark Room wasn’t cold, but feeling shy, she hid all of herself under the warm covers, only her head sticking out. Mark covered himself only up to his waist.

“G-goodnight, Mr. Jefferson,” Max said, tensed. She didn’t feel unsettled by the situation, but lying next to Mr. Jefferson was oddly exciting, she wasn’t quite sure how she should conduct herself now.

“Goodnight, Max,” Mark replied softly, turning his face to her.

There were a few moments of awkward silence between them. Just as Max tried to close her eyes to finally give into her fatigue, suddenly, all lights and electronics flickered as the storm outside intensified, making them look up at the ceiling.

“ _Woah…_ Did you see how crazy it is outside?” He turned his head to Max to check up on her, but she immediately, as though instinctively, snuggled up to his chest, startled. “Hey, hey, it’s okay, you’re safe in here,” he soothed. “And I promise…I won’t hurt you.” He put his arms around her, pressing her closer, and she embraced him tighter.

She drew a deep breath, trying to calm down. _Oh, lord. He smells so good_.

Mr. Jefferson’s cologne was far too intoxicating for her to ignore. Her heart fluttered now, feeling the closeness of his body heat against hers. The blanket could never even compare. And then...she felt his soft lips leave a kiss on her forehead, and she felt her response low in her abdomen.

Mark’s excitement rose too, Maxine was _so close_ to him now, burying herself in his body, he could sense the same heat and pressure in his pants he had felt when he had been reviewing the little masterpieces he had taken of her. Getting to be _with_ her would be beyond perfection.

 _God dammit, **control** yourself. She’ll get scared again_.

But then his little companion did something he wasn’t expecting. She pulled up a bit, sending him an unsure smile, and then... _kissed him_. Not once, not twice, but _kept_ kissing him, slowly and shyly at first, but killing him softly anyway. He could hear tiny, ardent moans, and if she wasn’t going to stop him, he sure as hell wasn’t going to stop himself either.

_Better than looking at her in pictures…_

Kissing her back more passionately, his hands skimmed lower, pulling her on top of himself. Maxine let him take the reins, possibly assuming he knew far better what to do now than she did.

As she now was sitting astride him, towering over him, they shared an excited smile, before Mark slowly slipped his hands up her thighs, reaching her hips and sliding up her tee. The minute his fingertips touched her soft, silk skin, she sighed, her eyes fluttering shut. His palms glided up, slowly, inch by inch, until he yanked the tee off her, leaving her exposed, thankfully still in her bra. He now waited for her to protest, and yet she didn’t. Her hands trembling, she began unbuttoning his shirt from the top, a shy desire behind her gaze. Mark couldn’t resist touching her again, skimming his fingertips up her arms, reaching her bra straps and inching them down, though still not removing her underwear completely. Restraint was oddly thrilling now, and he only gazed at her perfect, ivory skin. Maxine continued her attempt until his shirt was finally undone. With a curious expression, she unveiled his torso, awe in her eyes as she saw the defined muscles.

“Your iris… That…dilation like a shutter,” he breathed, awed. “The pictures you’re taking of me now…” His own pupils widened at the sight of her gorgeous face, a strange but deep connection as they locked eyes. 

His skin burned hot against her palms as she glided them up, Mark grabbing her bottom in response.

Max couldn’t quite explain what drove her to make this move. One minute she was just kissing him, and now they were disrobing each other, and it felt amazingly thrilling. Mr. Jefferson held her tighter and moved them around, so that he was now on top of her, lust and fascination in his eyes. His lips found hers again, kissing her passionately and no longer gently. Breath was catching up in Max’s throat, her body experiencing the kind of excitement she’d never felt so strongly, and it only intensified once she felt his wet kisses on her neck, his beard tickling her skin and sending goosebumps all over.

“ _Mr. Jefferson_ ,” she moaned quietly, one hand grabbing onto the back of his neck, digging her fingers into his hair, the other hand doing the same to the skin of his clothed back, her legs wrapping themselves tightly around his waist.

“Call me _Mark_ ,” he murmured, his kisses hungry and unrestrained, as though to devour her whole. Though he loved how she pronounced his last name, he wanted to hear her say his _real_ name. Max exhaled in thrill, feeling his caresses intensify, his lips and palms wandered all over her, he couldn’t get enough of her.

Piece by piece, they began losing their clothes, until nothing remained on but his shirt. Neither of them could now keep eyes off the other’s body, taking in all details, excited as they realized just how close they were to being _together_.

Mr. Jeffers— _Mark_ was...well-endowed, no other way to describe it. Max had never seen a nude man up so close, but she did realize he was way above average. _Mature_. She was certainly in good hands, he would know what to do.

Mark smiled at his lover to be, leaned in to kiss her, and traced a path of kisses down to her awaiting wetness, all the while hearing her uneven panting. He rubbed his cheek along her inner thigh, her skin so gentle and soft. Mark’s beard was pleasurably tickling her, furthering her want, though she still felt anxious.

Her eyes fluttered shut and a surprised whimper escaped her lungs as his lips and tongue were sailing across her slick surface, moving together in harmony, sometimes faster, sometimes slower, but eventually settling on an even pace, flicking her clit side to side, allowing her pleasure to build up and burst forward, bringing her into a blissful peak. A sweet moan filled his ears and her fingers etched themselves in his hair. 

She tasted so good to him, he couldn’t get over the flavor and that titillating scent she possessed, it all was so much more than he had previously imagined, she was igniting all of his senses without even trying. As she was trying to come back into hers, he was still lightly stroking her, so deliciously wet and warm.

Max was still panting, overwhelmed by the experience. As she glanced down at Mark, a smug smile and an enticing glare from behind his glasses. He was now coming back up, trailing kisses until he reached her lips again.

“Are you sure you want this, Max?” he asked.

“Y-yes,” she stammered. “I’m sh-sure. I’ve just never—”

“I know,” he soothed. “ _I know_. I’m going to be gentle, Max, no need to worry.” He caressed her cheek, adjusted his position and then spoke again, “Now, don’t move or this will...hurt...much.”

Max clutched onto his arms as he slowly entered her, a bit of pressure between her legs, just a bit of pain too, but he was clearly trying to be as gentle as possible.

“Nice… Oh, good…” he murmured once he slid inside her. Oh, she was so wonderfully tight and wet, it made it all the more difficult to restrain himself, but he wanted her to enjoy this as well, and so for now he was thrusting calmly and slowly, breathing unevenly and grunting. Her face looked so beautiful as it continuously displayed nothing but passion.

They locked gazes again, her eyes wide and clearly eager for some more.

“Oh, those eyes…” he marveled in a deep, low timbre.

Max could feel warmth spreading from her core, as he was filling her up, again and again, driving in deeper every few moves, a smirk painted on his face.

“Show me the love...” he ordered, groaning and going in harder, making her clutch to his arms again in pleasure, letting out a whimper. Seeing her enjoy this, he picked up the pace, now _making her_ surrender to his demand, steadying her shaking body with his strong hands wrapped on her hips. As he leaned closer to her, she reached out to touch his chest, her fingers digging themselves into his defined muscles, almost to the point of pain, which only spurred him to push harder and harder into her, _possessing_ her.

The lust in his eyes had just a bit of ominosity behind it, he definitely enjoyed having her in his improvised bed, she was finally his and his alone. He must have finally reached her sweet spot, as a series of unrestrained moans and winces were now filling the room, and her legs embraced him tighter, thus he continued, both their pleasure building up stronger and more intense, neither of them could take it for much longer. Thrusting with more vigor and eagerness, he finally made her come, her wall contracting around him and spilling further, much to his delight.

Max was absolutely dazed by her second peak. Mr. Jeffers— _Mark_ had made her feel unprecedentedly alive with each of his precise motions, their shared passion was tangible now, permeating through her body. She was now left to observe as her lover was still moving within her, nothing but sheer pleasure coloring his features. It felt utterly satisfying to hear him moan as much as he was right now, he sounded very different from what she’d come to know, but this soothing voice definitely fitted the situation.

Free to give into his pulsating want — though, honest to God, he wished to never leave her tight heat, she felt far too good — he began moving more and more aggressively, until his tingling sensation burst.

“Oh... ** _Max_** … _!_ ” he moaned softly, breathing out, eyes closed, slowing down his thrusts with an elated smile on his lips. He cursed quietly under his breath, his orgasm so intense he needed a few more moments to ease and collect his mind. Sweat was glistening on his chest, tangible underneath her fingertips no doubt, but that didn’t seem to bother her, she was still holding onto him and smiling at him with awe.

Max felt her insides get filled with something else than just _him_ as he sighed loudly. It was faint, barely noticeable, a bit...warm yet still... _different_ , a bit _strange_ , though she couldn’t focus on that sensation for long. He was kissing her passionately and fervidly, caressing her cheeks. It was better than he’d imagined it while taking photos of her and admiring every inch of her body. He still didn’t believe it had finally happened. _She_ had wanted to do it. It was _her_ who had made the first move. He couldn’t stop smiling at the thought of her reciprocating his feelings. She was still panting heavily, catching her breath with a bit of a struggle, while he stroked her hair, staring down at her. His eyes were darker than usual, a lustful yet euphoric expression across his face. Her skin had a beautiful shade of red from all the heat and heavy breathing. He wanted to frame every moment so badly, but restrained himself in case she’d feel too awkward. Mark wanted… _needed_ to make her live forever in his images. She was too perfect, too pure to ignore.

_She can be my muse for life… There are so many angles I want to expose her with to the world._

He rested on one arm, his eyes not leaving hers, and spoke softly to her. “Maxine…I need to ask you something.” His voice was deep and low,  reverberating on almost every corner of the room. “Why didn’t you just…leave? I mean, you could’ve at least _tried_ to escape. I don’t get it, why stay here...with _me?_ ”

The girl hesitated, looking for the words to express herself. She used to be scared, almost terrified of the man next to her. Though something had changed when she heard those six words, _“I love you too much… **Maxine** ”_. She had been dreaming of the moment where he would tell her that, but of course she never imagined they would be in the Dark Room when that happened. Though tied up and afraid of him, she’d decided to trust him. But why? Why trust a man like him?

Max wasn’t sure _how_ to put into words what she wished to say to Mark. Indeed, her actions tonight weren’t all too logical considering the situation they’d found themselves in. But after a while, slowly, they began developing a...connection. And then trust. She had to give it to get it.

“You...decided to trust me, right?” she asked. “When you let me stand up free,” she clarified.

“Yes. But I still thought you’d do it,” he confessed grudgingly, glancing down for a second, a hint of shame. “Honestly, I was afraid you were trying to deceive me. I know what I did was… _wrong_.”

Max looked shyly into his eyes. “I wasn’t. Not... _anymore_. Not after you...kissed me.” Her smile was uncertain now, but it was still there. “You granted my wish without laughing at me. I didn’t expect that.”

“It was an excuse just to be with you a little longer before…” He looked at her with infinite sadness. “I didn’t want to do it, but I just… _had_ to. I was certain you’d tell the police or Madsen. I couldn’t let you go. But, you asked for a kiss and I…” His eyes flickered in all directions, as if he were looking for his words. “I hadn’t realized how much I actually cared until you showed _feelings_ towards me. I was sure you’d never be mine. How could _you_ love someone like _me?_ ” He broke away, shaking his head. “So, I just...I _couldn’t_ kill you.” He tightened his grip around her shoulder along with those words. “I don’t expect you to forgive me for what I did to you...and your friend. I just want to be with you. I _know_ kidnapping you wasn’t exactly the best way to get your attention, but I was just so afraid you’d turn me to the police. I thought you hated me. If you still do now, it’s okay.”

Hate him? Still? Even now? Max wanted to deny these claims as soon as they surfaced, but she only shook her head frantically, her eyes wide and brows furrowed in protest. “I don’t hate you,” she stated.

“Not even for...Chloe?” Mark asked in quite a disbelief.

“I know I should, it would be logical if I did, but...I realized she never cared about me.” Max wasn’t looking at Mark, pouring out her sentiments on the matter. _Feeling_ that was odd enough, voicing it felt even stranger. She continued in the same manner, “She cared about...what I could do to help her solve Rachel’s case. And then she dragged me right into danger, time and time again, until you...found us.”

Mark looked away, shaking his head. _How could I have ever wanted to kill her?_

The necessity of that used to be so much clearer to him, even a few hours ago, now it felt like the misjudgement of the century. He was finally holding his one and only muse in his arms, and her death would certainly break his heart.

He bound her in such a tight embrace now, pressing her close to his chest, as though to hold onto her for dear life. “I...I’m so sorry, Max,” he whispered.

“Shh, shh, it’s...okay now. I forgive you. You’re the only one who ended up actually caring about _me_...just for _being me_.” She squirmed in his arms, wanting to face him now. He thus loosened his arms, though without letting go of her completely.

Putting her tiny palms to his face, she gazed deeply into his sorrowful, dark brown eyes, and spoke with such a strong conviction, she surprised even herself. “ _No one_ ’s ever looked at me the way you did when you were taking photos of me…or the way you’re looking at me now. No one’s ever _loved me_...the way you do.”

Did she...want to be loved so obsessively and possessively? Mark wondered. Certainly no one else but him could love her quite like that. No one else could show her the world quite like him, especially the world of photography she so eagerly wished to explore. He could shield her from anything and everything that would destroy the innocence he wanted her to retain. Perhaps he wouldn’t need any more new models now that he had found his perfect muse and one true love. They could become so much greater _together_.

“Do you really want this? Do you really want _me?_ ” he asked, still not entirely convinced. “ _All_ of me? You need to realize, sometimes I can be too obsessive or even... _aggressive_. You saw it yourself… I’m sorry, I can’t help it. But with you...in here...I feel I can be someone different, someone _better_.” He didn’t want to be alone again, now that Max was there, by his side, he understood so well why loneliness felt so bitter. If she truly meant all that, he would wish for nothing more than to spend the eternity with his gorgeous muse. She wasn’t simply another subject, she was something else. He couldn’t change his true colors that easily, but with her, it was at least _possible_.

Max saw it a little differently. No person in the world was perfect all around. But certain qualities made them stand out. With Mark, she had seen the heartbreak behind his gaze, when he had regretfully announced he had had no other choice but to...kill her. But he’d never once made her suffer. Never once had he enjoyed seeing her in pain. That had to count for _something_. He would probably deny it all, but Max had seen compassion in his eyes in that moment, thus she knew he was worth taking a chance on.

“Even having to kill me...you never _hurt_ me.” She gently caressed the side of his bearded cheek. “I saw your eyes...Mark,” she whispered. She hadn’t actually called him by his first name yet, though she’d received the permission. “You wished so badly you didn’t need to do that. I know you don’t believe that, I can sense your denial, but...I know that deep down you have a _heart_.”

Disbelief in his eyes, Mark smiled at her. Of course _she_ understood. _Who else_ in the world would? “ _Maxine_...I love you,” he breathed, shaking his head.

“ _And I love you_ ,” she emphasized each and every word. “I love you, Mark.”

Without missing a beat, she brought her lips to his, kissing him with love and passion, his hands gently hugging her fragile face, kissing her back just as ardently.

They spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms, warm under the blanket, lying on the soft pillows, feeling secure and complete, while the storm swallowed the entirety of Arcadia Bay.

 

 


End file.
